


The Many Disguises of the Holmes Family

by twilightfire



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: thegameison_sh, Gen, Sherlock's First Disguise, justified OOC behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-09
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 21:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightfire/pseuds/twilightfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock didn't develop his undercover abilities overnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Many Disguises of the Holmes Family

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 1 of [thegameison_sh](http://thegameison-sh), for the prompt 'undercover'.

It was late in the afternoon, and Sherlock was currently undercover on a case that he had expressly forbid John from accompanying him on—possibly because the last time they were both undercover, John had managed to accidentally chat up and consequently nearly get killed by a woman who turned out to be their killer. To be frank, John wasn’t too concerned, because he wasn’t the one dressed up as a giant flower for some gardening event.

Lestrade and the other Scotland Yarders were on surveillance with Sherlock, and Mrs. Hudson was visiting her sister in Surrey, so it came as a surprise when someone knocked on the door to their flat. It was probably a new case, especially considering that no one really bothered to knock anymore.

John sighed and got up from where he was typing his latest blog entry—The Diamond in the Rough—and answered the door.

“Mycroft! What are you doing here? You do know that Sherlock is on a case?”

“I am quite aware, John,” Mycroft stated, breezing right past him into the flat. He stopped in the middle of the sitting room and looked around with a raised eyebrow. “I see that my dear Sherlock hasn’t changed since he left.”

“Uh, what?”

Mycroft waved a hand airily and sat down on the sofa, laying his umbrella across his lap. “Nothing, John. You wouldn’t happen to have some tea, would you?”

“Ah, yes, yes, of course,” John stammered as he went into the kitchen to brew some tea and fetched the biscuits.

“Is Sherlock undercover?” Mycroft asked, critically examining a near-by gardening book.

“Yes,” John answered from the kitchen, “but shouldn’t you know that?”

Mycroft ignored the question, and instead asked, “Did Sherlock ever tell you about his first time undercover?”

John shook his head as he exited the kitchen, precariously balancing two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits.

“Thank you, dearie,” Mycroft said as he relieved John of one of the biscuits and one of the cups of tea.

John paused at the endearment, before shaking his head and preparing to sit down in his usual chair.

“Don’t sit over there, John, come sit next to me,” Mycroft ordered as he reached down to pick up a briefcase that John hadn’t even noticed him bringing in. He deftly opened the snaps and retrieved a thick photo album. He placed his umbrella and tea off to the side, having already consumed the biscuit, and replaced them with the book. He opened it to a point somewhere near the middle of the book, where a woman who greatly resembled Mycroft was smiling brightly at the camera, on hand resting on her rounded belly.

“Three days after this picture was taken, several robberies were committed during parties thrown by various family friends. As her pregnant belly would give her away, Mummy dressed herself up as good friend Charles Holson, who enjoyed his spirits and had a rather impressive beer belly to show for it.”

John snorted. “Sherlock’s first disguise was as a beer belly?”

“Yes, I’m afraid that is a story that Sherlock quite dislikes to tell. Unfortunately, you’re the only friend I’ve ever been able to share this with, I’m afraid. He never was one for socialization, although he always did make the parties more interesting.”

John smiled wryly. “I am not surprised.”

Mycroft turned the page of the photo album, which displayed a picture of Mrs. Holmes smiling happily with a black-haired baby in her arms and a young Mycroft watching avidly in the background. “Here we are on the day of Sherlock’s birth. I’m afraid this was the only time he was actually quiet on that day.”

John grinned, and looked at the clock before blinking in surprise. “You should probably be going if you don’t want Sherlock to know you are here.”

“Oh, nonsense. By now, Mycroft has most likely confronted Sherlock as to the location of his dear brolly. His lovely assistant has already informed me that she’d text me when they were done.”

John froze, staring at Mycroft’s double. “I thought there was something off…”

The double sighed, and took off the wig, revealing gray-streaked red hair. The suit was removed to reveal a different set of clothing worn underneath. She then folded the men’s suit, and placed it in the now-empty briefcase. Mrs. Holmes turned to John and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, John. I’m Abigail Holmes, but you may call me Mummy.”


End file.
